


Break Point

by Waterfall58



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotionally Compromised Spock, First Time, Hurt Spock (Star Trek), Hurt/Comfort, James T. Kirk is a Mess, M/M, Pon Farr, The Deadly Years, radiation poisoning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:02:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22761412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waterfall58/pseuds/Waterfall58
Summary: Was I the only one that wondered why Spock didn't experience multiple Pon Farrs in the episode "The Deadly Years"?  I  decided that he did, but that he cycled through them so quickly he didn't recognize them for what they were (after all, his cognitive awareness was failing as well).  This is the story of how multiple Pon Farr's left Spock severely ill and emotionally compromised and the wake-up call it gave one James T. Kirk.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 44
Kudos: 280





	Break Point

**Author's Note:**

> I have been writing Star Trek skits and short stories for my own enjoyment for many years, but this is my first time posting anything. Finding this site was like striking it rich. The hours of enjoyment you all have given me has been such a gift! Thank you all so much! There are many amazing writers on this fandom. I cannot begin to approach your imagination and skill levels. All I can offer is an ongoing passion and love for the Star Trek characters, especially Kirk and Spock of TOS. All mistakes are my own (what the heck is a beta any way???).

“Oh, anytime you’re ready, Mr. Spock.”

“I am quite ready now, Doctor,” Spock replied tiredly. He could barely focus his bleary eyes on the CMO’s face.

“Because of your Vulcan physique, I’ve prepared an extremely potent shot for you. However, I thought you might like to know that I’ve removed all the breakables from Sickbay,” McCoy added proudly.

“That is most considerate of you, Doctor.”

Spock’s subdued tone provided no hint how relieved he was to finally be on his way to receive the antidote for the radiation poisoning. Over the last hour, the struggle to keep his convoluted thoughts and emotions under his conscious control had become more and more difficult.

Spock silently congratulated himself on the fact that no one suspected how close he was to complete collapse. His pride in his achievement, however, was doomed to be ephemeral. His intellect had been so dulled by the rapidity of the radiation’s progression that he was unaware he had experienced multiple unbonded pon farrs. Spock had no idea of the dangerous degree to which he was physically and emotionally compromised.

He turned around in the turbo lift and discovered that the third person that had entered with him and Dr. McCoy was not the captain as he had assumed, but rather Admiral Stocker. Out of the corner of his eye, Spock had of course seen the ridiculous finger wave Kirk had given Dr. Wallace as she entered the bridge, but he never expected that Kirk would stay behind with her. As he had shuffled slowly and painfully into the lift, he every moment had expected the emotional warmth and physical support of his captain.

Just in the same way that Kirk had bolstered him on their rush to the bridge from Sickbay.

_A rejuvenated Kirk firmly tucked himself into Spock’s side and hustled him to the lift, where another blast from the Romulan ship sent them reeling wildly. Spock knew himself incapable of reacting fast enough to protect himself and he closed his eyes, awaiting the inevitable meeting with the lift walls. However, he slammed into nothing worse than his captain’s solid form. “Bridge,” Kirk said crisply, one arm still firmly encircling his First Officer. “Damn fool Admiral is destroy – “ Kirk broke off suddenly. Spock heard him take a deep, shaky breath. “I’m sorry Spock – “ the arm holding him tightened. “You have to know that –“. Kirk stopped again as the lift slowed. He released Spock and took a step away. Kirk bounced onto the bridge without looking back and brought the Enterprise from disaster to safety in less than three minutes._

Now blinking confusedly at Admiral Stocker, the Vulcan remembered the rage that had consumed him when Stocker had requested the competency hearing. That Stocker had ordered him – him – to be the instrument of Kirk’s removal from his captaincy! Backed into a corner by the Starfleet regulations Stocker quoted at him, shame had blended quickly into fury when he had been unable to think of a viable reason to decline such a horrific request. It had taken every ounce of Vulcan control not to slam Stocker’s bland face into the nearest bulkhead.

Spock looked dazedly around the lift, unable to believe that Kirk cared so little about his recovery. The lift walls shimmered around him as his eyes collected with rare tears. He realized that no amount of looking or hoping was going to make his captain magically appear. Why did he even expect Kirk to accompany him back to Sickbay, Spock asked himself in despair. After he had been the catalyst to remove the captain from command. Why should Kirk care whether he lived or died? What was it Kirk had said to him? Disloyal … traitorous …You stab me in the back …

Understanding burst upon him with the power of a photon torpedo. His deeply cherished friendship with Kirk was over. He would never again receive gentle touches and quiet signs of affection from his captain. His unspoken hope of a future always at Kirk’s side had been obliterated by what Starfleet regulations had demanded of him.

Spock’s control finally shattered. A small moan escaped him. He would be have fallen to the floor had it not been for the Admiral’s quick reflexes.

McCoy slammed the wall comm unit. “Medical emergency! Bridge lift!” He helped the Admiral ease Spock to the floor, his heart racing at both his scanner readings and the small whimpers Spock continued to release. If he had waited too long to tend to the Vulcan, Kirk would never forgive him. He would never forgive himself either.

“Why … why am I never enough …” Spock whispered. Spock raised his head and looked at McCoy, his eyes so unguarded and full of pain that McCoy’s breath caught. “l feel, I love, but am never wanted. Not on Vulcan, not on Earth and not here. I am never wanted, never loved, not even by him,” his head drooping. “Let it end here.”

“Damn it, Spock!” McCoy growled. “You are not going to die on me!” The lift doors swished open. “Help us get him to Sickbay!”

  
******************************************************************************

Kirk had indeed planned to follow Spock to Sickbay, but the chance to flex his renewed sex appeal and prowess was overwhelming. He stopped in front of Dr. Wallace instead. He smiled with all the charm he knew had.

Dr. Wallace smiled in return – indeed, who could resist that smile? – but she was fully aware of why Kirk had stopped in front of her. She could acknowledge his need to prove his masculinity, but she had seen him at his worst. That was something not easily forgotten. She spoke first. “I am so grateful the formula worked. I’m just sorry it wasn’t in time to save Lieutenant Gallway.”

Kirk’s smile instantly vanished. “Yes,” he murmured. “I understand that Admiral Stocker has already informed her family.”

Dr. Wallace squeezed his arm. “You did all that you could, Jim. The radiation poisoning was already impacting all of you physically and cognitively before you ever got back to the ship.”

“Thank goodness you were here,” he said, dropping his voice into a timbre she recognized. It was a tone she would have welcomed before he was poisoned, but now it only irritated her. His prior “goodbye present” comment still rankled with her. She decided it was only logical to cause a little pain of her own.

“Thank goodness for Vulcan physiology,” Dr. Wallace pointed out. “I couldn’t have developed that compound so quickly without the commander’s help. He seemed in such terrible pain, especially after what you said to him – “ Kirk’s posture visibly stiffened – “yet he was able to push through it to keep working.”

Spock? In terrible pain? Kirk’s chest tightened at the thought. And he had virtually dragged him up to the bridge!

He hadn’t really needed Spock to come with him: he had an idea of what he planned to do before he ever got there. It was a strategy he had had up his sleeve for some time now. So why had he been so adamant that Spock’s shot be delayed?  
Had he wanted Spock there to witness his brilliance in action? Had he needed the confidence and warm assurance that Spock’s presence always gave him? Or had it been guilt? Guilt at the words he had hurled so brutally at his closest friend? Spock had to know those words were the mere nonsense of a senile old man. So why had he wanted to keep Spock near him? Had he hoped it would remind Spock at how indispensable he truly was to Kirk?

He had not planned to apologize to Spock in the lift - being too focused on what was happening with his ship - and when a Romulan blast had pitched them forward, his only thought had been ensuring Spock’s safety. He had wrapped himself around his First Officer and ensured that it was his own body that ricocheted against the lift’s walls and not Spock’s. Surprised and alarmed to feel how forcibly the Vulcan in his arms was trembling, Kirk had found his throat closing. He should never have forced Spock to come with him. The few words of apology he tried almost choked him. It was with great effort that he set Spock back on his own two feet and leapt out of the lift alone, praying that Spock would be able to follow.

He had never been so glad to see Dr. McCoy as when he sauntered onto the bridge, knowing it meant Spock’s recovery was imminent. Remembering the verbal byplay twixt Spock and McCoy, Kirk’s body relaxed. Spock had been tired, but had not appeared in pain. He would never have missed something like that when it came to Spock.

“I’m going to check on Spock,” he said, before once more dropping his voice into a confident, whimsical tone. “Then would you like to join me in my quarters for dinner?”

To his surprise, Dr. Wallace shook her head. “Frankly, I’m exhausted after all of the excitement.” She sliced clear through Kirk’s remaining equanimity when she added: “Please let me know, though, how Mr. Spock is doing. I hope the formula works as well on him as the rest of you.”

“Are you saying it might not?” he snapped in a voice now audible to the entire bridge crew.

“I don’t know, Jim. Vulcan physiology – “

Kirk spun away from her. “Sulu, you have the conn,” he barked as he sprang to the lift.

Damn it, Kirk thought. Neither she nor McCoy had given any indication that there could be a problem with Spock’s recovery. Well, you didn’t think about it either, his ruthless self-honesty pointed out. Just took it for granted that he’d be OK, just like you assumed his Vulcan logic would excuse all the things you said. Kirk wondered if he had become just a tad too complacent in his relationship with Spock. Friendship, not relationship, he admonished himself. Had had really learned to take Spock’s loyalty and constancy at his side for granted?

He hurried to Sickbay. He stopped short at seeing Stocker and two other medics nearly dragging Spock through the Sickbay doors. Spock should have been in there and had the antidote minutes ago, Kirk fumed silently. He was going to have some choice words for McCoy about this delay.

Nothing could have prepared him for the scene in Sickbay.

  
******************************************************************************

Kirk burst into Sickbay before the doors had even fully opened. He stared at the tableau in front of him. To the anxious and puzzled captain, it looked like some type of bizarre group dance, with none of the dancers in sync. It took Kirk a few moments to process that Stocker and the medics were unsuccessfully trying to get Spock onto the biobed.

“Damn it, Spock!” McCoy hissed. “Stop fighting us!”

“Please desist in your attempts at ministration,” a weak voice pleaded. Kirk’s heart jumped into his throat. Was that Spock begging in such heart-rending way? “Let me die in peace.”

“You will die, you stubborn, green-blooded hobgoblin if you don’t get your Vulcan ass on that biobed now!”

Kirk lunged forward and unceremoniously shouldered one of the medics out of the way. Gripping firmly onto his first officer, Kirk’s only thought was to get Spock onto that bed even if he had to fling him over his shoulder to do it.

Spock was unexpectedly overwhelmed with Kirk’s powerful physical presence and enticing scent. None of Kirk’s terror at Spock’s death wish made it through the maelstrom of emotions in Spock’s unshielded and erratic mind. All that exploded within his brain were the same words over and over: I never want to have to look at you again. Kirk was here. Kirk - who now despised him. Spock gave a cry like a wounded animal and flung himself to the floor, curling up into a protective ball.

“Get him on the bed!” McCoy was all but bellowing now. “We’re losing him!”

Multiple arms reached down but it was Kirk’s desperation that prevailed. He single-handedly scooped-up his friend from the floor. McCoy shot the antidote into Spock’s arm as soon as Kirk placed him on the bed.

“Come on, Spock. Come on,” urged McCoy, his gaze traveling between Spock’s face and the biomonitor.

Spock continued the soft keening that began when Kirk had gathered him up. McCoy noticed that Kirk still had one hand wrapped around Spock’s wrist. He thought back to Spock’s reaction when Kirk had jumped in to assist the others grappling with the Vulcan. He came to the only possible conclusion. “Let him go, Jim,” McCoy said. “I think your touch is distressing him.”

Kirk stared at Spock, not reacting to the doctor’s request.

“Jim! Let him go!” McCoy urged. Kirk’s hand unconsciously tightened possessively around Spock’s wrist. “Jim, _you’re hurting him_!”

Kirk’s hand snapped back. Stocker looked at Kirk’s shattered expression. This time there was no doubt but that he was seeing a man not cognitively, but definitely emotionally compromised. He put a comforting hand on Kirk’s shoulder. “He’ll be OK, Captain,” he offered quietly.

“He should have reacted to the antidote by now,” McCoy murmured. “Nurse, get me a half dose of the solution.”

Kirk remembered his own violent reaction to the antidote. “Isn’t that dangerous?” Kirk demanded.

McCoy didn’t even glance at the captain before entering the new dose into Spock’s arm. He looked up at the biomonitor. “His readings didn’t even change with the initial shot. This is his only chance.”

There were several moments of strained silence. Spock now lay quiet and motionless on the bed. McCoy’s shoulders sagged and he reluctantly turned toward his captain. “He’s in a coma. We’ll draw some blood samples,” snapping his fingers toward one of his medics, “see if there is anything we can try, but I –“ he paused. “I’m sorry, Jim.”

Kirk’s unbelieving stare moved from Spock to McCoy. The lost, vulnerable expression changed into something unrecognizably hard. “That’s not good enough, doctor.”

“I’ll do everything I can, but -”

“No buts and no excuses. Find the answer. That’s an order.” Kirk strode out of sickbay.

McCoy glanced over at Stocker’s impassive face. “Nurse, com Dr. Wallace and ask her to come to Sickbay stat.”

“Is there anything I can do, Dr. McCoy?” Stocker asked. “I am deeply saddened at this turn of events.”

“It’s mostly up to Spock now, but I will do all that I can.”

“The captain …” Stocker began cautiously. “He cares a great deal about his First Officer.”

“Spock is his best friend, Admiral.”

Stocker nodded. “Of course, of course.” He hesitated before asking what was foremost on his mind. “If Mr. Spock does not recover, will Captain Kirk be … all right?”

McCoy did not immediately respond. The admiral nodded again, more thoughtfully this time, and left Sickbay.

“Damn you, Spock,” McCoy whispered. “You can’t do this to Jim.” He looked at the biomonitor for a few seconds, then back down at the man he had come to think of as a friend. “And I wouldn’t be too happy about losing you either. Trying to ruffle that green blood of yours has just never gotten old.”

“Why would Mr. Spock want to die?” he heard Nurse Chapel ask herself in tearful bewilderment as she walked back to the lab with a green vial.

That’s a good question, McCoy thought silently just as Dr. Wallace entered Sickbay. He thought that maybe this was someone who knew the answer.

  
***************************************************************************

Kirk collapsed onto his bed and flung an arm over his eyes. He breathed slowly in and out, trying to lessen the pounding of his heart. Part of him strained to return to Sickbay, to plant himself by Spock’s side and will his friend back to life. The other part of him recognized that he needed to stay away or risk further compromising himself in front of Admiral Stocker and his own crew. As captain, he had to appear always in control, never without hope.

But there was a moment in Sickbay when he thought he would be unable to survive if Spock died. It was the moment he understood why his touch caused Spock so much pain. It was because his words already had.

Spock had to know – surely he had to know – that his accusatory words were driven by senility and fear? That those words didn’t come from his true heart? He had hurled invectives and insults at his friend before with no lasting effect on their relationship. Friendship, Kirk reminded himself almost savagely. But there had been a healing purpose behind those other times, hadn’t there? He had to say insulting, ugly things to help Spock overcome the seduction of the spores. He had to play hard-ass captain to get Spock to open-up about Vulcan biology. This time, though, there had been total disregard for Spock’s own suffering and nothing healing in his words, except accusation, betrayal and … hate. Yes, his words had been hateful. And if Spock died thinking that Kirk hated him …

Vulcan biology!

Kirk sat straight up in bed. Dear God, why hadn’t they remembered …? He lunged for his computer.

“Bones!”

“There’s been no change, Jim.”

“Bones, pon farr. We didn’t think about pon farr.”

He heard McCoy swear softly. “Yes, that could be it. If he’s in pon farr, it’s possible his body almost instantly metabolized the antidote and rendered it inert.” Kirk listened impatiently as the doctor shouted instructions to his staff.

“It would also explain his severe depression,” McCoy said heavily. “I’ll admit that I was completely stumped about that.”

“Wouldn’t Spock have had to go through multiple pon farrs?”

“I don’t know, Jim. We weren’t experience the normal aging process.”

“Did he say anything about what was happening to him? About why he wanted to die?”

McCoy hesitated, thinking about the troubled interaction between Kirk and Spock that Dr. Wallace had described to him. Although Dr. McCoy frequently accused Spock of being a cold-hearted robot, he had little doubt that Kirk was the “him” Spock referenced in the lift, and that it was Kirk’s verbal attack on the Vulcan that had sparked his breakdown.

“Bones?”

McCoy took a deep breath and reluctantly shared all that Spock had spoken.

Kirk was silent for several moments. His response suggested that he too knew he was the ‘him’ to whom Spock referred. “He thought he wasn’t wanted here on the Enterprise? That I didn’t want him? That he w-wasn’t loved?”

The unusual stuttering alarmed McCoy. “Jim,” he began soothingly but was quickly interrupted.

“Why didn’t we think about this?” Jim demanded. “Why didn’t we remember that Spock may have been more at risk from aging so rapidly?”

“Jim, none of us were functioning at normal levels.”

“I should have known. I should have remembered. All I could think about was how lucky he was to be Vulcan.”

McCoy heard the guilt and self-blame emanating from his captain. Once he had learned what occurred between the captain and first officer in Kirk’s cabin, the CMO had been even more afraid for Kirk’s emotional well-being.

“You can’t blame yourself for any of this,” McCoy urged. His observation was met with silence. “Jim… none of this is your fault. If Spock recovers, you know that he’ll tell you the same thing.”

Kirk didn’t hear much beyond ‘if Spock recovers’. “What are his chances, Bones?”

McCoy swallowed before answering. “It doesn’t look good. He’s still in a coma.”

“Even if he wakes up, won’t his mind be permanently damaged from the unconsummated pon farrs?”

“Jim, we don’t know for certain that he experienced any pon farrs.”

There was a pause before Kirk signed off with a succinct “Kirk out”.

McCoy sighed, then joined Dr. Wallace in her study of Spock’s blood.

  
************************************************************************************

Kirk briefly wished he could crawl back into bed, but was well aware that strong, responsible starship captains didn’t meet challenges by lying on their bunks. He compromised by pacing furiously back and forth. Kirk wrapped his arms tightly around his chest, trying unsuccessfully to erase the sensation of Spock wrenching himself out of his arms. Never before had his touch been unwelcome to his First Officer. Kirk hugged his ribcage even tighter. The guilt he experienced was almost crushing in its intensity.

In addition to the radiation poisoning, Spock had experienced the painful physical and psychological imperatives of pon farr. Alone. Unbonded. Kirk wasn’t sure how he knew this for a certainty; he just knew.

Why hadn’t Spock asked for help, or more specifically, his help? Didn’t Spock know he would do anything – anything! – to keep him safe? Kirk’s pacing slowed. He truly meant that, didn’t he? He would have given his body to the Vulcan if that’s what Spock needed to survive. Remembering all the accusatory and snide comments he had recently flung at his First Officer, however, Kirk appreciated how Spock might have believed that his captain would rather see him die than volunteer his body for Spock’s brutal pleasure. The truth was that he would suffer any hardship if it ultimately helped Spock.

At the back of his mind was the thought that he would not have considered consummating pon farr with Spock a hardship. Ever since their frantic struggles together on the Vulcan sand, his eyes had been opened to Spock’s sensuality. He had known what it was like to lie under the Vulcan’s lean strength – albeit briefly - and had been unable to erase it from his memory.

He knew he loved Spock, but the unrelenting sensation of choking suggested more than the fear of losing a good friend. What he was terrified to ask himself now, with Spock’s death seemingly imminent, could that love have silently and secretly deepened into something more?

Kirk vigorously shook his head, as if trying to clear an image from his brain. He was James T. Kirk, lauded playboy of the universe, seducer and lover of all women, human and otherwise. Never once had his eyes lingered with interest on another male.

Never.

_Never._

Until Spock.

When Kirk had first realized he was gazing at his First Officer in warm appreciation, he told himself that it was normal for his eyes to sometimes linger on Spock’s body. He always had an appreciation for a well-made figure, especially when it was combined with great intelligence.

He had also told himself that the occasional urges he felt to bear-hug or plant a loud kiss on Spock’s cheek were the result of overcharged emotions after a harrowing close call. He chose not to remember that these same urges sometimes came in quieter, shared moments of friendship as well. And the fact that no one could bolster or sooth him as quickly as Spock, make him double-over in laughter or make him impatient for a chess game or intelligent conversation like Spock, was nothing more than evidence of the strength of his friendship with Spock. Spock was his best friend after all.

It was undeniable that the tall, sleek figure so constantly at his side had eased many stressful and lonely moments. It was as if Spock had become an extra arm, a second brain, an additional heart and soul. He certainly spent more time thinking about Spock than any other crewman. But even that was natural, Kirk thought. Spock was the only Vulcan onboard. It was his duty as captain to ensure his comfort and that he was treated with the appropriate respect. None of these things meant that he wanted more in his relationship – friendship! – with Spock.

Respect, did you say? his inner voice snorted. Like the respect you showed him today, berating and accusing him, when he was suffering even more terribly than you? Kirk groaned and massaged his brow. He had to stop thinking about Spock or he risked completely losing his emotional control. As a starship captain, he knew how to suppress his own needs and fears. He tugged down his gold shirt, firmly set his jaw and headed for the bridge.

It was a moderately successful strategy. There were moments when his attention was so caught by sending messages to Starfleet, updating his captain’s log, and approving ship repairs that he experienced some relief from the constant heaviness in his chest. His bridge crew was well aware of Spock’s condition and understood their captain’s muted, tense manner. They went about their business quietly, waiting on edge for the moment when their captain would look over his right shoulder, an action as instinctive to him as breathing.

Uhura was the first to notice Kirk’s crinkled brow in his review of one of the ship’s reports. Here it comes, she thought, her heart sinking at what she knew her captain was about to do.

Kirk swiveled in his chair toward the science station, only to freeze when he remembered that Spock was in Sickbay. This was followed by the realization that Spock may never return to the bridge; that every time he turned toward the science station he would forever be reminded of what he had treated so cruelly and subsequently lost. And that he had no one to blame but himself.

The crew watched in silent sympathy as their captain’s posture slowly melted into dejection. It was nearly a minute before Kirk squared his shoulders, cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. He was the captain, dammit, he thought. He needed to get his head out of his ass and start acting like one. He barked a question about the report to Scotty, interrupting him in his answer to ask another question. The bridge crew knew then that the last hours of their shift were going to be brutal, but they forgave their captain in the face of his evident strain.

Kirk’s brittle demeanor lasted until he left the bridge. Sagging against the lift wall, he was flooded with the memory of holding the weak, shaking Vulcan in his arms in this very lift, and how in that moment, all he had wanted was to hold onto Spock and never let him go.

  
**************************************************************************************************************

The lift doors opened. Kirk pushed himself off the wall. He was hungry, exhausted and had a nagging headache, but none of these was more pressing than his need to see Spock. He walked swiftly into sickbay and stopped suddenly. Spock was gone. Did that mean -?

Nurse Chapel came toward him swiftly. “We moved Spock to the critical care bay, Captain,” she told him reassuringly. “You can go back. Dr. McCoy is with him now.”

Kirk nodded. He wanted to ask her if there had been any change, but found himself disinclined to do so. Her wan pallor and red eyes irritated him. All she was weeping over was a ridiculous crush, while he was facing the loss of a being he deeply loved. Kirk never felt as solitary and vulnerable as he did at that moment.

The critical care bay doors opened. McCoy came out and dimly smiled at his captain. “I’ve been expecting you.” He waited until Chapel left the room before continuing. “There’s been no improvement, but at least he’s stable for now. I have to check on some blood panel results. You can go on in for a few minutes.”

Kirk smiled his thanks and waited until McCoy entered the med lab. He stared at the critical care doors for a few moments and reminded himself to keep his emotions in-check. It was likely that there were other nurses or medics behind those doors.  
Entering the bay, the heat registered first, followed by the unnatural silence. Bones must have turned off Spock’s heartbeat monitor, Kirk thought, unless …

Kirk leaped forward, unable to restrain his gasp of relief to see the pulsing red marker on the biomonitor. He looked down at his friend, his own heart beating wildly, recognizing that he had already failed in his attempts at emotional restraint. “I’ve been without you for one half-shift, Spock, and I’m already falling apart,” he whispered. Kirk looked carefully around the room, but he was alone with Spock. Just as it should be, Kirk thought. Something that was almost like contentment settled over him. Both his exhaustion and headache receded. He reached out his hand and lightly touched Spock’s upper arm. He quickly looked up at the biomonitor, relieved that this light touch had no deleterious effects on the readings.

McCoy entered the bay and stopped. He watched as Kirk slid his hand down Spock’s arm, pausing before he reached Spock’s wrist, the first area of visible skin. McCoy realized that Kirk’s attention was so focused on Spock that he hadn’t even heard the bay doors open. He watched his captain in puzzled fascination.

Kirk took an audible, shaky breath and softly placed several fingers on Spock’s wrist. He looked up again at the biomonitor, as did McCoy. He saw Kirk’s shoulders sag in relief, while his fingers now traced circles over Spock’s hand.  
Of course, McCoy thought. Kirk was testing to see if Spock still reacted with pain to his touch.

Kirk bent closer to the unmoving figure. “Spock,” he called quietly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m here. Hold on. You’ve got to hold on.”

The doctor’s sympathetic smile disappeared. It was only a few brief sentences, but there was something unexpected in the way Kirk spoke to the Vulcan – intimate, pleading - that told McCoy unequivocally that Kirk would never forgive him for having heard it. He backed away quickly, triggering the door. Kirk's hand snapped back to his side.

By the time Kirk swung around, McCoy was once more walking forward, his gaze focused on a med scanner. “So far,” he said. “The panels aren’t giving us any useful information.” He decided it was now safe to glance up. Kirk had indeed moved away from the bed and was facing him, wringing his hands in the manner typical for him when stressed. “I don’t know, Jim. Maybe Dr. Wallace will see something I don’t.”

Kirk turned back to once more look at the Vulcan. “I don’t think he’s in any pain,” McCoy offered gently.

“Bones …”

“Yeah, Jim?”

“Could Spock not want to wake up?”

McCoy considered several comforting responses, before answering honestly: “I don’t know.”

Kirk’s temper flared again. “You keep saying you don’t know. Do your job and figure it out, doctor,” Kirk said harshly, exiting the bay.

McCoy considered a blistering rejoinder, then remembered the way Kirk had been caressing Spock’s hand. Kirk’s feelings for the Vulcan obviously ran deeper and in a different direction than he ever suspected. McCoy forced his jaw to remain closed.  
Once he had his own temper under control, he looked over at Spock. “Well, it seems pretty obvious that at least someone thinks you’re more than a mass of computer circuits.” He paused then added: “It’s worth coming back for, Spock.”

  
*******************************************************************************************************************************

_Kirk walked down the hallway, unsure if he was still on the Enterprise or not. If it was the Enterprise, he no longer seemed able to find his way. He knew an urgency to reach his destination, although he could not name where it was he needed to go. Uhura passed him, nodding her head in approval. “You’re sideways,” she crooned._

_Sideways? He turned to ask her for help, but she was already gone. Unknown crewman passed him in an unending stream. None of them responded to his requests for directions._

_The ship’s hallway turned into a steep hill. Kirk clambered awkwardly over rocks that looked like brightly colored pillows. Each one exploded and spewed red-hot lava as he passed by them. The closer he came to the top of the hill, the more a sense of dread enveloped him. By the time he reached the peak, he was unable to move and lead weights on his lids kept his eyes downwards._

_What was he so afraid to see?_

_The answer came swiftly. A body. A dead body. Kirk knew that if looked up, he would see a dead body. But whose?_

_McCoy suddenly came over the hill towards him. “Being sideways suits you, Jim,” he said easily. He did not stop but continued down the hill._

_Kirk stood frozen in fear, unable to move forward or backwards. Without looking, he knew that the path behind him was no longer passable nor was the path ahead of him available any longer: the dead body took care of that. Kirk realized this was where he would live out the rest of his life. The utter sense of desolation brought him to his knees He began to scream._

Kirk snapped awake on a large gulp of air. He was conditioned to get his bearings quickly upon gaining consciousness, and after a few more deep breaths, he had placed the flashes of his dream in their correct order.

“Shit,” he breathed aloud.

He rolled out of bed and scrubbed his hands through his hair. It didn’t take much analysis to understand what his subconscious was trying to tell him. There was no going back for him in acknowledging just how important Spock was in his life. And if Spock died, there would be no future, no happily ever after for him. He would just be the man that had destroyed what he loved and thus forced to live the remainder of his life forever off-balance and incomplete.

Kirk’s cabin suddenly seemed too confining. He took a quick sonic shower, threw on his uniform and strolled throughout the decks. He was comforted by the familiar sounds and feel of his ship. His aching heart was eased somewhat by the joy with which his crew greeted him, the wishes for Spock’s recovery they all offered and the evident happiness he created for them by his simple attention.

It wasn’t much longer until Kirk found himself in front of Sickbay without consciously heading in that direction. He walked into the critical care bay and stared at Spock, unable to voice what was in his heart, unable to say the words aloud that would forever change his perception of self and bind him to a Vulcan male.

The Enterprise docked at Starbase Ten and remained there at the urging of Admiral Stocker. “Your orders, Captain, will allow for several days rest at the base. You and the senior members of your staff can use this time to further recover from the radiation poisoning.” He continued more carefully. “You especially are still dealing with the serious condition of your First Officer, and if I may say so, Captain, you are not looking well.”

Kirk smiled wanly. “Dr. McCoy inferred the same, Admiral.” In actuality, McCoy had told Kirk that if the bags under his eyes got any bigger or darker they would qualify as black holes.

“Captain, please know that while I sincerely hope for a full recovery for Mr. Spock, this is the third day of his coma and we must remain proactive.”

A cold chill ran down Kirk’s spine.

“While you are here, I can introduce you to several strong candidates for the position of First Officer, in the event that Commander Spock –“ he broke off, hesitant to voice that worst possible outcome.

“Mr. Spock will make a full recovery,” Kirk said firmly.

“Captain –“

“If it becomes necessary for me to review candidates, I assure you I will not hesitate to do so. At this time, it is unnecessary.”

Admiral Stocker saw once again the captain that had commanded, charmed or bluffed his way out of every dangerous situation. The man across from him suddenly exuded a staggering confidence despite his obvious exhaustion.  
“Captain,” he tried again.

“It is unnecessary, Admiral,” Kirk repeated with an edge.

The Admiral nodded. “I hope that is so, Captain. I’ll continue checking in with Dr. McCoy regarding Commander Spock’s condition.”

Kirk clenched and unclenched his fists as he watched the Admiral walk away. His worst fears were confirmed. If Spock did not regain consciousness within the next two days, Kirk would be ordered to leave him behind at the Starbase’s hospital.

Kirk returned to the Enterprise, his tired mind in overdrive. He knew that, if ordered, he would be forced to continue his ship’s mission without Spock at his side, but could he abandon Spock – the being he loved and had injured so greatly with his harsh words – to the care of unknown Starbase personnel?

On impulse, Kirk went to Spock’s quarters instead of his own, the Vulcan long ago granting his captain unconditional access. In the dim red-orange light of the fire lamp, Kirk breathed deeply, pulling in the smell of Spock. He daringly sat down on the bed and tried to picture what it would be like to lay there with his First Officer, to be subject to the Vulcan’s strength and passion, to trace his fingers over the pointed ears.  
Is this what he wanted? Could he find sexual fulfillment with a Vulcan male? Would adding a physical element to his relationship with Spock only upset their perfect balance and spell the end of the best command team in Starfleet?

Kirk looked down at his lap and chuckled. His erection suggested he was onboard, really onboard with expanding relations with his First Officer. Kirk wanted nothing more than to lie down and relieve his tension on Spock’s bed, but all he could do now for the Vulcan was show him the respect he so deserved. He hurried back to his own cabin to take care of his need, thankful for the late hour and empty corridors.

Sprawled on his bed, Kirk stroked himself firmly. He fantasized about Spock regaining consciousness in Sickbay and coming directly to Kirk’s quarters, only to freeze in amazement to find his captain engaged in frantic masturbation. Kirk heard himself ordering his first officer to come closer. The fantasy was so compelling that he climaxed quickly. He lay on his bed, listening to his breaths becoming more harsh and uneven, before the first sob forced its way out his throat.  
He tried to restrain more from escaping, but was too tired and overwhelmed to enforce his body’s compliance. He mourned the loss of what could have become the defining relationship of his life. Even if Spock recovered, Kirk doubted that Spock would ever fully trust him again.

Once the tears finally subsided, Kirk lay passively, hoping he would fall asleep. His burning eyes and clogged nose, however, soon got him to his feet. Choosing to take a water shower, Kirk let the hot water cascade over his shoulders and asked himself the same questions over and over: if he was ordered to leave Spock on Starbase Ten, could he do it? Any request he might make to remain behind with Spock, even on a short-term basis, would certainly be denied. Could he warp away and leave Spock in strangers’ hands?

No, he could not. If that meant giving up the Enterprise, then so be it.

And with that simple acknowledgment, Kirk’s head cleared.

For the first time since Spock’s collapse, his natural optimism reasserted itself. McCoy would find the correct antidote; Spock would return to him with full mental capabilities, and he would find a way to erase the scars of every wound he had ever inflicted on his first officer.

He needed to be with Spock – now. The physical desire just to be near the Vulcan was so powerful his hands trembled. Kirk dressed as quickly as possible and hurried to Sickbay. A nurse glanced his way, nodded and went back to looking at her computer. No one else was moving about.

Kirk walked back to the critical care bay. He flinched slightly when the doors swished open: the sound had seemed abnormally loud.

Kirk’s breath caught slightly once Spock was in his direct view. It was several more seconds before Kirk’s legs propelled him forward. Once next to the bed, his eyes moved rapidly between his still friend and the biomonitor. He did not see Dr. Wallace slowly rise from her med station.

She watched him for several minutes, her expression softening when Kirk’s gaze finally remained constant on Spock. She had just taken a breath to speak, when Kirk reached out and wrapped his hand around the Vulcan’s lifeless fingers. It was such a tentative, tender gesture that her mouth dropped open. As her lover, Kirk had been energetic, playful and sometimes wryly sentimental, but never tender or romantic. She knew that she needed to announce her presence, but amazement kept her silent.

Kirk stared down at his best friend, once again struggling to say the words burning in his heart. Why was he so afraid to voice what he was feeling? How was it possible that facing down the Romulans had been easier than this? He glanced back up at the biomonitor. Even to his untrained eye, he could see that there had been no change. Spock wasn’t improving. Time was running out for both of them. He had to speak now.

“Spock … Spock, you have to know,” he began. “You have to keep fighting. The ship needs you. I need you. I can’t … I don’t think …. I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to do this without you.”

Kirk shifted even closer and leaned over the bed. His other hand came up to carefully embrace Spock’s wrinkled fingers. “I didn’t mean any – any! - of those things I said. You have to know that. You have to believe that.” More, Jim, tell him more. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I was sick, senile and terrified, but not as terrified as I am now about losing you. I can’t lose you, Spock. You have to keep fighting. I-I need you … I –I …”

Kirk gritted his teeth in an unsuccessful attempt to regain his composure. Breathing heavily, he gently returned Spock’s hand onto the bed. He took two steps toward the door, and stopped. Gripping his hands behind his back, Kirk spoke over his shoulder to the motionless figure. “I love you, do you hear me? I don’t care if it’s illogical or if makes you question my sanity or fitness for command. I love you with all that I am. You are enough! Do you understand? You have always been more than enough for me,” speaking with enough intensity that Dr. Wallace melted carefully back into the shadows.

Kirk spun on his heel, once more facing his friend. “I order you to come back to me.” He came back to the bed and desperately scanned the Vulcan’s face for any signs of awareness. Finding none, he sat heavily on the bed. He lightly touched Spock’s cheek, finally resting his hand on his first officer’s chest. “Come back to me, Spock,” he whispered.

The doors swished open, but this time Kirk made no attempt to move away or appear indifferent. A compassionate hand landed on his slumped shoulder.

“Come on, Jim,” Dr. McCoy urged quietly. “You need to get some rest.”

Kirk’s only response was to shake his head.

McCoy spoke again, this time with unusual caution. “I just had a com from Admiral Stocker – ”

Kirk swiftly interrupted him. “If I’m ordered to discharge Spock to the Starbase hospital, I’m staying behind with him.”

“Jim! Starfleet will never allow it.”

“I’m not leaving him.”

“I don’t like the idea of leaving without Spock either, but he’ll receive the best possible care on the Starbase.”

Kirk said nothing in response, his fingers softly spreading on the Vulcan’s chest.

“Do you have any idea what ignoring Starfleet orders would do to your career? Do you understand you would never again captain a starship?” McCoy asked aggressively.

“Yes,” was Kirk’s tranquil reply.

Dr. Wallace spoke for the first time. “Jim, please be logical. Is remaining with Spock, on the chance he fully recovers, worth losing the Enterprise and your career?”

Kirk completely ignored her. “Do Vulcans kiss as humans do? Do either of you know?”

Dr. Wallace impatiently clicked her tongue. “Jim, this is guilt you’re experiencing, not love.”

“That’s a ‘no’ from you. Bones, do you know?”

McCoy sighed noisily. He knew it was useless to argue any further. Kirk rarely did anything by halves and he had obviously committed himself fully to Spock. McCoy promised himself several drinks when this was all over.

“All right, Jim. I’ll shut up for now. Let me find you a more comfortable chair.” He made it as far as the door before a strangled cry from Kirk made him rush back to the bed.

After being still for so long, Spock’s body now seemed in overdrive. His torso arched upwards, his limbs struggling against the restraints with such power they all could feel the floor vibrating around the bed. A sound almost like howling burst from Spock’s throat.

“What’s happening? Is the antidote finally working?” Kirk shouted. McCoy ignored him, his eyes fixed on the biomonitor.

One of the restraints snapped and Spock’s arm flailed wildly in Kirk’s direction. Kirk grabbed at it before McCoy could stop him. The Vulcan’s fingers closed around Kirk’s hand with near bruising strength. Spock’s eyes snapped open, as his body collapsed back onto the bed. He panted heavily and looked wildly around the room.

Kirk leaned over him, his other hand once again closing over the fingers clinging tightly to his. He spoke soothingly to the Vulcan. “I’m here, Spock. You’re in sickbay. The antidote is finally working. You’re going to be OK.”

Kirk watched in satisfaction as all signs of radiation poisoning faded from his friend. He barely heard Dr. McCoy’s muttered ‘who’s the doctor here?’ Spock was alive – alive! – and looking up at him with recognition and – dare he hope - affection.

Kirk swallowed the lump in his throat. He lightly caressed Spock’s fingers, joy and relief making him indifferent to watching eyes. He rushed to offer his apology. “I’m sorry, Spock. I didn’t mean any of those terrible things I said to you,” Kirk said hoarsely. “I was senile from the radiation.”

Spock’s eyes crinkled in confusion. Kirk immediately worried about brain damage, but after several more tense seconds, Spock’s face relaxed with the smile he used only for his captain. “Jim, I know this. It is illogical to apologize for actions out of your control. Please do not distress yourself.”

The lump returned threefold. Spock never ceased to delight and humble him: no castigation, no coolness; only understanding and compassion. Tears stung Kirk’s eyes as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. The last thing Spock needed at this moment was a sobbing captain.

“So, Spock, how do you feel?” McCoy asked, bouncing happily on his toes, as he released the final restraint. “Your vitals are still showing some imbalance.”

“I am quite adequate, Doctor,” he replied. He sat up and swayed sharply toward Kirk.

‘Whoah there, Spock!” McCoy growled. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Spock’s brow rose. “I would think it quite obvious that I was attempting to sit up.”

McCoy smothered his smile. Somehow Spock’s stoic sarcasm just didn’t have the same effect when spoken from within the protective circle of Kirk’s arms.

“Don’t think for even one second that you’re getting out of that bed,” McCoy said.

“I assure you, Doctor, that I am quite recovered.”

“Poppycock!” McCoy growled. “You’re staying in that bed until all of your vitals return to normal.”

“It is an unnecessary use of medical space and personnel,” Spock said stiffly.

“Spock,” Kirk croaked gently, lightly pressing the body he was still holding back towards the bed.

McCoy glanced sharply at his captain. Kirk’s confident command tone had been completely absent from that one word; the tight, reedy sound instead suggested a man whose strength had been stretched to its limit.

Spock looked at his captain for several beats, swiftly cataloguing all the signs of his captain’s stress and fatigue. Spock went slowly boneless, permitting himself the rare indulgence of relaxing into his friend’s embrace. Kirk cradled him tightly against his chest for too brief a moment for them both, before carefully lowering Spock to the bed.

Dr. Wallace marveled at Kirk’s romantic gesture – he had held the Vulcan’s gaze the entire time he slowly laid him down – and wondered how Spock had managed to crack open Kirk’s guarded heart when she could not.

“I still have to figure out what finally triggered the antidote to work,” McCoy mused. “Was it some of your Vulcan voodoo, Mr. Spock?”

“Negative, Doctor. I was simply following the captain’s orders.”

Kirk had been smiling giddily at McCoy, but at Spock’s unexpected reply, his head snapped back to the Vulcan. Spock returned his gaze with limpid innocence.

Kirk was unaware just how long he and Spock stared at each other, but when he finally blinked and looked around, both Doctors McCoy and Wallace were gone.

“You heard me,” Kirk said, hoping he was doing a good job of hiding both his wonder and his panic.

“Yes,” was all the infuriating Vulcan replied.

It was a new sensation for Kirk to be uncertain that his advances would be welcomed. Despite his insatiable appetite for new experiences, he wasn’t sure he liked this one. He had always been a man unafraid to go after what he wanted, but he couldn’t afford to make any mistakes here. He had to let Spock make the next move.  
It was irony at its most perfect, Kirk suddenly realized. It was Spock who now had the power to wound him irreparably with words of rejection or indifference.

“You are a man of deep feeling,” Spock observed.

“Yes,” Kirk replied tersely. He didn’t like the way this conversation was starting.

Spock’s lips twitched. It wasn’t often that he had the upper hand when it came to Kirk. He fleetingly chastised himself for enjoying it so much.

“You’re preference for my person is completely unexpected.” Spock paused shamelessly for dramatic effect and in doing so, wondered if he was quite fully recovered from the radiation poisoning.

Kirk’s jaw hardened, readying himself for the worst.

Spock nodded placidly. “Most unexpected, but not unwelcome.”

Kirk’s body slightly collapsed in on itself in relief. Spock allowed his captain a brief moment to recover before continuing. “Indeed, your preference for my person displays a high level of intelligence.”

A smile that was almost predatory appeared on Kirk’s face. “Mr. Spock. I believe you’ve been teasing me.”

Spock’s brow rose. “Vulcan’s do not tease, Jim.”

Kirk took a step forward and lowered his hip onto the bed, rocking slightly against his first officer. Spock decided that only Kirk could make such a simple action so charged with heated intent. “Well, my Vulcan does.”

A green flush dusted Spock’s cheeks at the use of the possessive pronoun. If Kirk hadn’t already been completely besotted with Spock, he was sure he would have tumbled headlong at that never before seen sign of emotion.

Kirk glanced up at the biomonitor. His expression – to Spock’s great disappointment – changed to one of hesitation.

“I assure you that I am quite recovered. The initial dizziness is quite gone.”

“Sit up,” Kirk commanded.

Spock complied so quickly that he later averred that’s what caused him to wobble once again. “More rest for you, my friend,” Kirk said ruefully, lowering his first officer back to the bed.

“And for you as well,” Spock said, shifting over on the bed.

Kirk stared down at the sliver of space Spock had made. “It would be a really tight fit,” Kirk observed hopefully.

“Please rest, Jim. I believe Dr. McCoy would say you look wrung-out.”

“Wrung-out, huh? Well, if my First Officer is using human slang, it must be serious,” Kirk said playfully.

“That is a most accurate observation. Lie down, Jim.”

He had never before spoken in such a way to his captain: throaty, commanding. It was Kirk’s cheeks that now flamed with color. Could he put aside his need to be in control and allow Spock to be dominant, even in such a simple situation as this?

Oh yes. Yes, he could. He already had, many times. He just never thought about it before in those terms. Whenever he bowed to Spock’s judgment or allowed Spock’s fingers to gently rest on his face for a meld; even when he had decided to die on Vulcan rather than kill Spock, he had submitted his own ideas, thoughts and even his life to Spock.

There was so much they needed to talk about, but all of that could wait, Kirk thought contentedly, until Spock was fully recovered and they could retreat to the privacy of his or Spock’s cabin. His mind idly started planning their perfect first kiss.

Spock watched his captain in amusement as he squirmed and pushed his way to being draped around him. Most satisfactory, Spock thought.

“I never thought I’d be vertical with my First Officer,” Kirk murmured cheekily.

“To use human vernacular, Jim, we are sideways.”

Kirk shot straight up and stared down at his puzzled first officer. “Jim?” he asked uncertainly.

Kirk would never have planned for his first kiss with Spock to be in sickbay, but as he swooped down, it was still perfect anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and kind comments would make me so very happy. Since I write purely for the love of the characters and my ongoing dream that somewhere, somehow they truly exist and are together and happy, please pass on your constructive or unkind criticism elsewhere.


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